The Angel of Soriano: A Renaissance Romance by Alden Stella Marie

Author:Alden,Stella Marie [Alden,Stella Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stella Marie Alden
Published: 2016-09-27T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Even though wearing layers of skirts and covered by a long shawl, Lucella Santamaria shook as she inched toward the fire in her upstairs chambers. She’d stood at the top of the drafty staircase for over an hour, spying on the elder Signore Carvajal and that fat old cardinal from Rome.

She picked out a green thread for her needlepoint, mind racing. She just needed more time. Time to get away from her grandmother and visit the old witch in the woods and get more white powder. Then she’d again start to sprinkle it onto the food. Eventually, the ever-vigilant cooks would stop checking. Perhaps it’d be easier with the son of the steward gone.

“Guess what? We’re going to have a wedding.” Her grandmother smiled, crossed the room, and dug boney fingers into her shoulders.

“Dideco says I can’t wed until I come into my menses.” Lucella rolled her eyes, then jabbed her needle in and out of the fabric.

Jesu Christo. Her grandmother grew less sane with each passing hour but she couldn’t be allowed to spoil her plans. Not now. Thanks to my special tea, soon I’ll be forced home, barren. Then after prayers in the local church she’d stop the teas, miraculously recover her period, and marry a Spaniard. Never again would she return to these horrid Papal States.

Her grandmother went to the cupboard and lifted a small pottery jar with a stopper. “Sheep’s blood. We can douse the sheets and your night shift.”

Lucella’s heart stopped as her greatest nightmare was about to come true. “But I don’t wish to be married. I want to go home.”

“Hush girl.” An old fist went back, swung, and missed.

If the white powder didn’t work soon, Lucella would just push the old hag down the stairs, forget the poison, and take a knife to Bernardo in his sleep.

“I swear you grow more ignorant daily.” Her grandmother’s permanent frown lines were actually frightening when she smiled thus. Then she dripped dark blood onto the bed sheets.

Lucella stood, dismayed. “What will happen next month and the next? Bernardo will no doubt suspect. If not, certainly the maids will tell him.”

“I’ll keep track of the phase of the moon until you become comfortable with the task. No one will ever know. Now, try to look happy, girl.” Her grandmother splashed the rest of the smelly contents onto Lucella’s white nightgown then ran out of the room shouting, “Don Carvajal? Come quickly. Joyous news! It’s time to plan a wedding. Come see.”

Lucella bit down on her tongue until she tasted bitter blood. She was going home, even if she had to murder the whole Carvajal family to do so.

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